Distraught on Christmas
by TenToo
Summary: After Sherlock embarrasses Molly at Christmas 2010, Lestrade escorts her home and their mutual grief takes over. (This story was prompted after the line in Stealing a Consulting Detective's Heart where Molly admits to sleeping with Lestrade.) Smut, smut, glorious smut.
1. Christmas

The door to Sherlock's room shut with a snap that echoed throughout the entire flat. John stood and walked over to Molly. He placed his hand on her elbow and leaned in, he whispered, "I'll try to talk him 'round to a real apology. I'm really sorry, Molly. I know how you feel about him." As he walked away, toward Sherlock's bedroom, Molly began to cry. Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade rushed to her side. John's girlfriend, Jeanette, sat quietly, unsure of what to do; she didn't know any of them very well.

"It's okay, dear." Mrs. Hudson said, taking her hand.

"Why does he do that?" Molly asked, shaking with a mixture of rage and heartbreak.

"He's a prick, Molly." Lestrade said, sliding an arm around her waist. "Don't let him get to you."

Molly looked up at him and smiled through her tears. "Thanks, Greg. It's just…he's just such an arse. I don't understand it."

"He'll realize what he's done, Molly. I'm sure of it." Mrs. Hudson said, squeezing her hand.

The door to Sherlock's bedroom opened and John walked out. He sighed and walked toward the huddle of his three friends. To Lestrade, he whispered, "Take Molly home, Sherlock isn't going to make anything better."

"Is he okay? He seemed a little off." Mrs. Hudson said, frowning.

John opened his mouth to speak but Lestrade said, "Who cares how he feels!"

Everyone was stunned into silence for a full minute before John said, "Please, just take Molly home."

"Fine." Lestrade said smugly. He released her and grabbed both of their coats. He helped Molly into hers and she was almost out the door behind him before she turned back and walked toward Mrs. Hudson, Jeanette, and John. She stopped at her bag of gifts. She pulled out one for Mrs. Hudson and handed it over.

"Oh thank you dear!" She said, smiling.

Everyone began to exchange gifts. Molly had even gotten Jeanette a small one because she thought it would be awkward for her. Mrs. Hudson had had the same idea. Molly pulled out Greg's gift but when she looked around, she didn't find him anywhere. She set his present back in the bag and when he rushed up the stairs and told her that there was a cab waiting for them downstairs, she gathered up the gifts for both of them and said her thank yous and goodbyes to Mrs. Hudson and John. As Lestrade ushered her out of the flat, she glanced at Sherlock's door but found that she only started crying again.

They didn't speak in the cab and Lestrade paid before following her up to her apartment. Molly unlocked the door and pushed Toby back so he didn't escape.

"I didn't know you had a cat." Lestrade said, following her inside. He crouched down and scratched Toby's head for a few seconds. He stood up and looked around, feeling out of place. Molly smiled and said, "You can sit down, Greg." She walked toward the kitchen which was right next to the sitting room. Greg sat down on the small couch and glanced around. There was a TV in the corner opposite, a bookshelf full of heavy medical books and smaller novels, a chair, a coffee table, and some lamps. It was exactly how he thought it would be. Molly called over to him, "Shots?"

"Yes." He said, subdued. She noticed his sudden change as she brought over a bottle of tequila and two rather large shot glasses.

Molly sat next to him on the couch and poured the shots. Lestrade picked up his as Molly did and they clinked their glasses together before taking their shots. Molly set her glass down and Lestrade poured another one for her. They lost count of how many shots they had taken after half an hour.

She finally said, "I'm sorry about your wife."

He frowned as he poured himself another shot, his hand almost missing the glass completely. "I should have realized it earlier. I guess that's one thing that Sherlock's good for. Ruining relationships." He looked at her sadly. "I'm sorry he was such an arse to you. I tried to stop him, so did John. But you know how he is…"

"Yes. I know how he is. Yet, I still…" She sighed and raised the glass to her lips. She poured the liquid down her throat, almost gagging at the taste; she should have been used to it by now after almost an hour of drinking it. She had never liked liquor but she needed it now to forget everything that had happened that night. She reached up and took her earrings off, then she removed the bow from her hair.

"What are you doing?" He asked, as he set down his shot glass. He leaned against the cushions of the couch, resting his arm over the back of it.

"They were bugging me. Sherlock was right, I only wore them to distract people from my small mouth and breasts." She said, frowning as she looked down at herself. "The whole outfit was a distraction."

Molly felt a hand on her chin and she was forced to look at Lestrade. He said, "You're perfect, Molly. Sherlock's an idiot not to see it."

A tear rolled down Molly's cheek and Lestrade wiped it away. Molly caught his hand and laced their fingers together. Lestrade looked at their hands then back at her, only to find her much closer than before. "You think I'm perfect?" She asked, looking at him under her lashes, her lips inches from his.

"You're perfect, Molly Hooper. You always have been and you always will be." He said before claiming her lips with his. Molly wasted no time in straddling him — in order to do so, she had to hike up her dress. Lestrade placed his hands on her bare thighs and ran them up, under her dress until her reached her knickers. Molly's thin fingers made quick work of his shirt. Once unbuttoned, she shoved it off, effectively shedding him of it and his jacket. She broke their sloppy kiss and latched her lips onto his neck. A slight moan escaped Lestrade's lips when Molly nipped at his skin. That act set off something in Lestrade. He pulled Molly's dress clear off her and he began to trail kisses down her chest. He was sweet, he didn't bite at her or do anything that would mark her skin. He reached her breasts and sucked lightly on one of her nipples. It was enough to drive her crazy and want more. She reached down for his belt and unbuckled it.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked between kisses on her neck.

"Yes." She said quickly as she unbuttoned his pants. In nothing but their underwear, she grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the bedroom.

They crashed on the mattress and Lestrade slowly pulled her knickers off. He slipped his boxers off and positioned himself at her entrance. He looked her in the eye as he slid into her. The reaction that he got from her was nothing like he got with his wife, when she ever let him partake in the act with her. She wrapped her arms around him and held on as he started to move inside of her. She pulled him down for a kiss; she bit his lip hard. "Christ, Molly!" Lestrade moaned. He kissed her gently back but could taste a hint of blood. He removed his lips from hers and focused on her breasts again. He fucked her slow and steady; she grabbed a fistful of his hair, tugging hard.

It was a short show for both of them; Molly lost it first and Lestrade followed soon after. Neither had experienced it in quite some time, Lestrade surprisingly longer. Molly had at least had Jim recently. Lestrade had to rely on his wife, who was getting it other places so she didn't need him often. He sighed and pulled Molly against him, she turned into him, resting her head against his chest. She wrapped her arms around him and he around her; it was a relief for him to finally be able to cuddle and share a bed with someone.

Molly ran her finger over Lestrade's chest hair and smiled. He asked, "What?"

"Nothing. This is nice." She said, closing her eyes. He ran his hand over her arm and replied, "It is."

* * *

Lestrade woke to a shrill ring; he reached over and nudged Molly. She stirred and muttered something incoherent. Lestrade murmured, "Your phone, Molly." He kicked her lightly and she finally reached for it.

"Dr. Hooper." She mumbled into the phone. She listened for what seemed like forever to Lestrade, who just wanted to curl up with Molly and go back to bed. "Yeah, I'll be right in."

Lestrade sat up quickly and looked at her as she hung up her phone. She set it down on the bedside table. He said, "Where are you off to at…" He checked the clock. "5am?"

"The morgue. Mycroft requested that I come in for a body." She said, getting out of bed, very self-conscious that she was naked. She quickly pulled on a jumper and slacks.

"Mycroft requested? Why does he care about a body?" Lestrade asked, propping himself up on his elbow.

"He thinks it's Irene Adler." She said, looking down at him.

Lestrade bit his tongue and shook his head to himself. "I'm guessing Sherlock will be there."

"I suppose so, yes."

Lestrade hopped out of bed and searched for his clothes, only finding his boxers. He pulled them on and exited her bedroom without a word. She followed after him and said, "Are you upset?"

"Of course I am, Molly." He said as he pulled on his trousers. "You're going to help Sherlock at 5am when you should be sleeping." He almost said _with me._

"I'm not helping Sherlock, I'm helping Mycroft!" She replied defensively.

Lestrade scoffed. "And what do you owe Mycroft? He's never been overly pleasant to you. I don't even know if he's capable of that." He pulled his shirt on then his suit jacket. He searched around for his coat. As he pulled it out from under Molly's dress, he said, "You're doing this for Sherlock. Don't lie to yourself." And with that, he was gone.


	2. New Year's Eve: Part I

Molly was quite busy for the next several days. The Christmas season was a time where people did stupid things and wound up killing themselves in the lamest ways possible. She was finishing up an autopsy for a man who had died when his son lost control of a chainsaw when cutting up their Christmas tree, when the door to the morgue opened. She looked up and watched as Lestrade strolled in.

He looked different somehow. He was tanner — how he managed to tan in an English winter, she had never understood. He went to Dorset for Christ's sake! Maybe he tanned in West Bay…? She was thinking way too much into it. Molly shook her head and acted like she hadn't noticed him. He had been texting on his phone when he walked in and hadn't looked up. She continued to work on the body in front of her. She had finished the autopsy and covered him back up. She was steering the cart over to the freezer when Lestrade called over, "Molly!"

"Hello, Greg." She said, mildly. She shoved the tray back into the freezer and latched it shut. She walked over to the sink and washed her hands extensively. He watched her: she was precise in her movements, having done it hundreds of times before. She turned the water off and dried her hands. She brushed passed him and exited the room. He rushed after her.

"Are you mad at me?" He asked, falling into step beside her.

"Why would I be mad at you, Greg?" She asked, walking briskly away from him. Lestrade caught her hand and pulled her toward him. She looked up at him, eyes narrowed. "_What_?"

"What's wrong?" He asked, holding her hand in his. It was his left hand and she ran a finger over his wedding ring which was still in place.

"This!" She tapped the ring with her index finger. "I was the _other woman_ last week. Do you know how that makes me feel?"

She pulled her hand out of his and walked away to the lab. He called after her, "Let me explain! Meet me at the Bishops Finger after you get off work!"

Molly just rolled her eyes and kept walking.

* * *

Molly changed into her normal clothes, a jumper and jeans, after she finished up her last autopsy at 6pm. She grabbed her purse and exited the hospital. She began to walk toward the tube station but stopped in her tracks. She turned around and headed for the Bishops Finger. She entered the pub and found it decently crowded with people grabbing a pint after work before they went to their parties for the night. She scanned the crowd and found Lestrade in the corner at a table with a nearly empty glass in front of him. She watched as he drained it and walked over to the bar where he ordered another. She intercepted him there.

He was surprised to see her. "I didn't think you were going to show."

She smiled sadly and replied, "I almost didn't."

He just nodded and said, "Fancy a wine?"

"Yes please." Lestrade ordered her a red wine and walked back to the table with both drinks in hand. Molly was seated and he set the glass in front of her. She took a sip of it immediately and waited for him to say something.

He took a deep breath and said, "I'm splitting with Elisabeth."

She didn't look at him as she said, "For how long this time?"

"For good." This made her look up at him. She raised her eyebrows. "I'm serious."

"Then why are you still wearing the ring?" She asked, looking down at it; it seemed to mock her.

"For my son's sake. He doesn't know." He was looking down at the table, turning his wedding ring with his thumb.

"You have a son?" She asked, surprised. She practically had to pick her jaw up off the floor. "I've known you for five years now and you've never told me that you had a son!"

"I'm sorry. His name is Graham…" Molly let out a laugh; Lestrade raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry. That's one of the names that Sherlock calls you." She said as she took another long sip of her wine.

He laughed and drank from his pint. "So it is. But the real Graham Lestrade is my son. He's sixteen. Elisa and I don't know how to tell him. Anytime that we have marital troubles, Graham acts out. So telling him that we're getting a divorce is going to really mess him up."

Molly nodded, understanding. "How did Elisa take the confrontation?"

Lestrade needed another glass for this part of the conversation. He grabbed both of them refills and sat back down. He sighed and took a long pull from his beer. "She didn't take it well. She thought I had no idea what was going on." He took another drink and continued, "She blamed me for her affairs."

Molly finished taking the drink she was halfway through before saying, "She blamed _you_? Why?"

"She said that I didn't spend enough time with her and I didn't pay enough attention to her. I _tried_. She just was never around. Apparently everything is my fault and she's completely off the hook." He frowned and placed both elbows on the table. He put his head in his hands and ran them through his hair. She could tell that he was stressed. She reached across the table and grabbed one of his hands. He lowered his other hand and looked at her.

"Don't blame yourself, Greg." She ran her thumb over the back of his hand. "It's not your fault at all." She bit her lip and tried to think of something to say. "How was the vacation?"

"Good; for Elisa and Graham. I didn't confront her until we got home this morning. I kept quiet in Dorset, during our trip to West Bay…" _So he did go to West Bay! That's where he got gorgeously tan from the coastal sun radiating off of the snow…Shit, he's still talking. _"…and throughout our final night with my parents."

"Oh, your parents live in Dorset?" She asked.

"Yes. That's where I grew up. It's still Graham's favorite place to go; that's why we spend so long there over Christmas." He said quietly. He sighed and added, "I wonder if he'll go next year or if he'll spend it with his mother."

"Don't worry about that now." She said, squeezing his hand. She looked up at the clock on the wall — an hour had passed. "Are you going home tonight?"

He shook his head. "Absolutely not. I can't stand looking at Elisa right now. I called John, he said I could crash at his and Sherlock's flat for the night."

"Sherlock isn't in a good place right now. Mrs. Hudson was attacked, Irene Adler's dead; he's not okay. John has to deal with him, I would advise that you stay out of it."

"Mrs. Hudson was attacked?" Lestrade asked, frowning.

"She's fine now. She insists that we all not worry." She said, smiling. "You know how she is."

"Well, if John and Sherlock's place is out, where am I to go?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at her. He gave her a lopsided smile.

"I thought that was obvious." She said, returning a coy smile. "Let's go."


	3. New Year's Eve: Part II

**I've decided to start calling Lestrade "Greg" in this Fic. It just sounds right when writing him in this _sense_. **

* * *

Toby greeted them at the door and Greg bent down to scratch his head. Molly shut the door and watched them, smiling. But she felt like she had been standing there for too long and walked farther into the flat. She took her coat off and hung it up in the closet. When she turned around, Greg had stood and was shrugging out of his coat. She held out her hand for it. He smiled and handed it over. She hung it up and when she turned around again, she found Greg much closer than before. She smiled up at him; she placed her hands on his shoulders and leaned up, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"What was that for?" He asked when her hands slid away from him.

"I'm just glad that what I thought was true wasn't." She said, smiling as she walked into the sitting room. He followed and they sat down on the couch together. Greg looked over and saw Molly's Christmas tree near the hallway.

"You still have your tree up?" He asked, pointing over to it.

Molly nodded. "Yes, well, I still have presents left so I can't exactly take it down yet, can I?"

"And whose presents do you have?" He asked.

"Yours and mine." He raised his eyebrow, clearly confused. She continued, "From Sherlock's at Christmas. We left so fast that we didn't have the chance to open them; then we were very busy when we got here and we _still_ didn't have time."

"No, we didn't." He said, smiling slyly. Molly stood and grabbed the several presents that were under the tree. She handed Greg's to him and sat down with her own.

"You go first." She said before he could bestow the honor upon her as he was about to do. He sighed and picked up the smallest box. He opened it quickly as he had always hated having attention on him during the holiday season; he didn't like people watching him as he opened presents. Inside the box, he found cuff links. He laughed and said, "I believe these were given to Sherlock when he recovered the _Falls of the Reichenbach_ painting."

Molly took them from Greg and examined them. She smiled and said, "Yes, I believe so. They're nice at least; diamond too!"

"Yes, they're very nice." He said, nodding. "Your turn."

Molly took the medium sized box and found that it was a hand-knitted jumper from Mrs. Hudson. "Oh how lovely!"

Greg smiled unconsciously. They continued with the remaining three gifts that they each had. From Mrs. Hudson, Greg received a jumper as well (almost matching Molly's — it would seem as though she planned that for some reason); from John, two tickets to the New London Theatre's performance of _War Horse. _From John, Molly received the book she had been eyeing for weeks; from Sherlock, a new leather journal (hers at work was getting very full and very raggedy).

After, Molly asked, "Do you enjoy the theatre?"

Greg nodded. "I love the theatre. I know you wouldn't think looking at me, but I do."

They each looked at the last gift in their hand, the one from the other. They were both small and Molly noticed how hers from Greg was wrapped quite nicely. They opened them at the same time. Greg received a new Braun watch and Molly received a bracelet with a medical charm. Both found themselves smiling like idiots.

Greg's watch had stopped working several weeks ago but he wore it out of habit; Molly had noticed when he had delivered some files to the morgue that it wasn't working. And she now understood the reason behind the mystery of when Sherlock had walked in to the lab, wrapped his fingers around her wrist, then walked out swiftly; all without uttering a word. She wondered why Greg had brought Sherlock in on his gift idea.

"Thank you." They said at the same time; they both chuckled.

"Here." Molly said, holding out her hand for the watch. He handed it over and she unclasped it. She took his hand in his and pulled it toward her, taking off his old one and putting the new watch on. "It looks good on you."

"You must have spent a fortune." He said, looking down at the sleek, black German-made watch.

"No. Not too much. Probably the same you spent on this." She said, attempting to clasp the bracelet on her own wrist. He did it for her, his fingers lingering on her skin. She smiled and laced their fingers together.

"It's beautiful, Greg." She said, smiling at him.

"And so are you." He said, looking her in the eye. He leaned in and she didn't stop him when he kissed her. It was a simple, sweet kiss that didn't last for a long time; when he broke it, Molly found her face following his for a moment before she caught herself. She backed up and leaned against the couch, he did the same. He coughed awkwardly and said, "So um, you can just do whatever you were going to do tonight and I'll just read or something…"

Molly said, grinning, "I was invited to my friend's party and I promised weeks ago that I would go. But I know that she would be delighted if I were to bring a guest."

Greg smiled. "We should probably get ready then."

By 9:00, Molly had gotten ready. She wore a lovely blue dress and she had gone to great lengths for her makeup, resembling that of the Christmas party. Greg had nothing to change into so he remained dressed in his grey work slacks and navy blue dress shirt. He stood from the couch and walked over to her and placed his hands on her hips; in her ear, he whispered, "If you look like this all night, I won't be able to keep my hands off of you."

"Well, if you succeed, I'll have a reward for you when we get back here." Molly said, pulled out of his grasp and walking toward the door. She grabbed both of their coats and her purse then out the door they went.

Aly's party was only four blocks away so they walked. Aly nearly fainted when she saw Greg with Molly. She said, "_Well_, hello there! Who are you?"

"This is Greg, Aly." Molly said, rolling her eyes.

"Did you bring him for me?" Aly asked, looking Greg up and down with sheer lust in her eyes.

"Not a chance." Molly said, taking Greg's hand in hers.

"Oh! Well, um, come on in!" Aly said, stepping aside.

Her flat was packed full of people and Molly seemed to know everyone. Greg didn't know that she had this many friends outside of work. She had always seemed so quiet and timid; he had thought that she would have a very close group of friends and not enough to fill an entire flat. He stood by her side, sipping wine, and talking when he needed to but mostly, he admired Molly. She was so beautiful and her friends really brought out a new side of her.

Molly went around the room, talking with everyone that she knew; Greg went along with her, holding her hand the whole time. When their glasses were empty, Greg went and filled them. In the kitchen, he was approached by another man, one with bright red hair, who said, "Dragged here by your girl too?" He was much younger than Greg; in fact, everyone in the home was.

"I wouldn't call it being 'dragged.'" Greg replied as he filled up the glasses.

The man leaned against the counter and looked at him oddly. "You came with Molly right?" Greg nodded, unsure of where this was going. "She's a nice girl; a little too nice, ya know? She's nothing like people think she is."

"Watch it, mate." Greg replied, glaring at the man.

"I meant nothing by it." He said, taking a sip of his drink. "I'm Nicholas. I used to date Molly; I never thought she would go for an older man."

Greg frowned and took a pull from his wine. "Why does it matter to you?"

Nicholas shook his head and replied, "It doesn't." He looked off through the doorway.

Greg laughed and said, "Do you still fancy her?"

It was Nicholas' turn to laugh. "Of course not." He gestured his beer toward the doorway as he said, "Anyway, I'm with Jennie."

"I'm sure that'll work out well for you." Greg said, pushing his back off of the counter. He grabbed Molly's drink and left Nicholas all alone. She smiled at him and asked what had taken him so long. "I ran into one of your old boyfriends."

She flushed a lovely crimson. "Oh…Yeah, I thought I saw Nicholas here…I hope he didn't say anything inappropriate."

Greg shook his head. "No, he didn't."

"Good."

The hours rolled on and before they knew it, it was a minute to midnight. Aly hurriedly turned on the telly and they all huddled around, waiting for Big Ben's first tolls of the new year. When the bells tolled midnight, everyone pulled their partner into a kiss and the single people at the party grabbed another single person. Molly grabbed Greg by the lapels and gave him a passionate kiss, lasting a bit longer than the occasion called for. When they pulled apart, Greg had a dazed look upon his face. Several people were looking at them, but they didn't care.

"Thanks for coming with me tonight, Greg." Molly said, smiling at him.

He grinned and replied, "It's my pleasure. I've had a fun time."

Before long it was time to leave and Molly took Greg by the hand, leading him by the hand out the door. Aly thanked them for coming and said, "I'm still very sorry that you weren't a New Year's present for me." She bit her lip as she looked him up and down once more before sighing dramatically. Molly rolled her eyes at her friend and was about to reply but Greg beat her to it.

"Sorry, Aly, but I'm with Molly. But, I had a great time tonight."

"Yeah, yeah. Thanks for coming." Aly replied, smiling at them both before they went on their way.

As they walked the four blocks back to Molly's flat, Molly said, "You did well tonight."

"What do you mean?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow as he peered sideways at her.

"You kept your hands off of me and didn't rip my dress off of me." Molly said as they walked up the stairs to her flat.

Greg smiled and said, "Hmm, I didn't. Does that mean that I get my reward?"

They had reached her door and she unlocked it, pushing Toby inside as he attempted to make his great escape. She grabbed his hand and yanked him inside, slamming the door shut behind her. She looked up at him and said, "What do you think?"

She pulled him toward the bedroom, kicking her shoes off as she did. They crashed through the door, kissing passionately. Molly's dress was pulled over her head by Greg and she shed him of his suit jacket and shirt in return. She unbuckled his belt and sent his trousers to the ground. They stood there: her in her knickers, him in his pants, looking at each other, out of breath. Greg grabbed Molly's hand and pulled her toward the bed. He picked her up and laid her down before climbing on top of her. He let his hands explore her body as his mouth found hers again. One hand found a breast while the other slipped in between her legs. Two fingers breached her entrance and she gave out a yelp in surprise.

"This is supposed to be a reward for you." She said, breaking their kiss.

"This is a reward. This is exactly what I love." He replied, moving his fingers inside of her faster. He kissed his way down her body and pulled her knickers down. When his tongue licked her just north of where his fingers were, she moaned. She ran her hand down her body and let it disappear into his hair, holding on as he pulled his fingers out and plunged his tongue in and out repeatedly. She put her hand in front of her mouth to try to control her moans. He returned his fingers to their rightful place but he had added a third and she gripped his hair hard, pulling at his roots; he didn't care, he liked it. He twisted his fingers inside of her and curled them to hit that spot inside of her as he sucked on her clit. Her hand had abandoned her mouth at this point and she now held onto the sheets with one hand and his hair with the other as she moaned loudly. He felt her tense up after another few minutes and she was silent for a split second, unable to make a sound, before she let it all go. He continued to finger and lick her through her orgasm and didn't stop until she pulled him up by his hair. She kissed him, tasting herself on his tongue.

"I can't take anymore." She said, breathless.

Greg smiled and said, "You'll have to."

He shoved his pants off and leaned back on his heels; she saw that he was ready to go. She bit her lip and he smiled. She got up on her knees and took him in her hand. He smiled and unhooked her bra with one hand. She kissed him hard, biting his bottom lip. She then ran a series of kisses down his chest until she reached his member and she took him in her mouth, plunging him all of the way in. He moaned loudly, "Christ, Molly!" She pulled back until he popped out of her mouth then took him all of the way back in until he hit the back of her throat again.

He didn't let her continue this for very long for fear of finishing too early. He pulled out of her mouth and pulled her up; he kissed and lowered both of them to the bed. Molly wrapped her arms around Greg's shoulders and he positioned himself at her entrance. He watched her as he entered her. She moaned and let her head fall back. He smiled; he loved her reaction. He leaned down and kissed her lightly. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he began to move extremely fast inside of her. Molly was moaning loudly in no time. Her nails dug into his shoulders and he bit into her shoulder, hard. She was panting with each thrust; _he has a lot of stamina for an older man_, she thought. He kept at it for another ten minutes, flipping her over so she was on her stomach at one point. He moaned loudly when he came, gripping her hips so hard that he left bruises in the shape of his fingers.

He pulled out of her and layed next to her on the bed. Molly curled up against his side. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, holding her close to him. With her head resting on his chest, she asked, "What are you going to do about your family?"

He sighed, "I have no idea."

She kissed his chest and replied, "Well, you're welcome to stay here for as long as you want."

At that offer, he smiled — a bright possibility in a storm of heartache and dysfunction.


End file.
